


Es tut mir leid

by Iamthesmileyface



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Angst, Brief mention of America - Freeform, Brief mention of Russia, Gen, Happy Ending, M/M, WWII, baby's first fic be nice, drabble-ish, look i wrote this in half an hour don't judge me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-24
Updated: 2016-01-24
Packaged: 2018-05-15 22:07:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5802016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iamthesmileyface/pseuds/Iamthesmileyface
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nations can feel the pain of their citizens. War, for them, is agony.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Es tut mir leid

The war was hell. Germany could feel the toll it was taking on everyone, could feel the pain of those in the concentration camps. _(How could he do this they were his own citizens)_ The pain got worse at night, when there were no distractions to numb it. All he can do is stare at the ceiling, hearing the screams of the dead and dying echo in his head. He can feel the dull, muted, yet still so sharp bursts of pain, phantom pains with no wounds visible. By this point he has forgotten what it feels like to not have the dull ache of starvation in the pit of his stomach. He wishes it would just end.

Italy’s not much better off. Such a peaceful, foolish, innocent nation. War on this scale, the cruelties, the pain. But still he creeps into Germany’s bed at night, to provide comfort for the both of them. He tries to hide the pain, the _(sharpburningaching)_ pain of his soldiers dying in battle, his citizens suffering in this war. He keeps going, and every day his smiles become less and less real.

Germany is collapsing. People, his people, performing horrific, gruesome experiments on each other, dying every day. Dying of sickness, of injuries, of starvation. A sharp burning bite followed by an empty void, again and again and again and again. Prussia looks at him and tries to smile, tries to brush off the pain they’re both feeling, the atrocities being committed. But whenever Germany sees that forced, fake smile on his brother’s face, all he can think of is how he’s failed.

The screams in his head have become unbearable. Italy cries himself to sleep more nights than not, skipping his midday naps, claiming that he “figured he needed to work a bit harder anyway.” But Germany knows. He’s heard his friend awoken by his own screaming in the night, calling out for it to stop, just STOP! But he pretends he hasn't, pretends neither of them are in excruciating pain.

Germany barely sleeps now, the nightmares taking their toll. He wonders if this is what it feels like to be insane. He wonders if this war will ever end. He has begun to think of himself as a monster, because what else besides a monster would let their own people suffer like his are? He wants it to end, to stop having to take orders from a madman, to have the screaming and pain stop. But he can’t. His boss is his boss, whether he likes it or not.

When his brother was taken, it just got worse. Prussia was one of the few who shared his pain, who knew exactly how much it hurt. His support pillar, his older brother, gone. Japan has grown distant _(more distant more reserved less his friend)_. All he has left is Italy, the weak, cowardly nation who somehow became his best _(his only) f_ riend. But Germany refuses to lean on the other nation _(once so happy and joyful now so tired sad forced smiles making their home on the face that used to beam so lightheartedly)._

When Italy leaves, he is relieved _(Italy should never have gotten involved in the first place)_. Now, Italy is safe. Germany is alone now, his brother in the custody of a demented northern nation, Italy joined with his enemies. Japan barely ever visits. He is alone now, fighting a war he hates. He cries openly at night now, muffled sobs and screams ringing through a house that is so very empty now.

When the Allies win, he smiles for the first time since _(he can’t even remember anymore)_. It’s a broken smile, sad and weighed down with self-loathing. But his people. His people are free now. His boss is dead, and he thanks God for it. He know it’s not over. The scars will remain. He knows he will always be begging for forgiveness, from other nations, from people long dead. But it’s over.

He’s so silent now. Honestly, it creeps the Allies out. They were expecting a fight, a struggle at least, but no. Germany just goes along with everything they tell him to, no resistance, no hesitation. But he always carries a notebook with him. The Allies see him writing in it whenever he can. America, the most curious of them all, steals it once. It’s just four words written over and over. Es tut mir leid. Over and over and over again. Filling every line of every page.

Es tut mir leid

Es tut mir leid

Es tut mir leid

Es tut mir leid

They see him smile once, when they let Italy see him. It’s tiny, and cracked, but it’s there. Italy beams. Then suddenly they’re hugging, tears running down both their faces. It’s such a simple gesture, but everyone can tell. It’s an apology. A forgiveness. A love confession, all at once. The Allies give them time _(it would be rude to intrude on such a private moment)_ , and finally, finally, finally, _(after Prussia’s almost-not-quite dissolution and Japan’s bombing)_ He’s free. They’re all free.

Italy goes back with him, and, well, there are still bad days, and bad nights _(the notebook was filled and replaced and filled and replaced, always the same four words)_ , but it’s enough. Italy loves him, and he loves Italy. His brother is still there being a loving pest. Japan came by and asked, rather awkwardly, if they could be friends again. Germany accepts. So he’s got his brother, his friends, and his beloved. And that’s really all he needs.

**Author's Note:**

> Ok so I wrote this in half an hour and it's my first fic i'm sorry about this.


End file.
